In his dazed sleep, Long Yun felt a little sleepy.

It wasn't until the sun shone into the cramped detention cell and he opened his eyes that he was sure that he had arrived in this familiar and strange world.

After getting up, brushing his teeth, and rinsing his face with cold water, Long Yun returned to the edge of the bed on the top bunk and sat in a daze. Now he couldn't do anything but wait here: he had checked the lock of the door of the detention cell, and there was no tool that he couldn't break through.

Right at his feet, the habitual thief of the lower bunk was still sleeping with his head covered, and Long Yun didn't know that his snoring had kept the hapless guy awake last night.

Do you just sit and wait?

Although the time that passes here does not affect reality, it is also a bit too boring. However, just as he had nothing else to do, there was the sound of heavy footsteps in leather boots in the hallway, and then the thick figure of the policeman appeared at the door of the iron fence.

Judging from the sound of footsteps, Long Yun knew that there was more than one person walking over. As expected, as the fence gate opened, a man in ordinary clothes but with an alert look appeared in front of him, followed by his partner; The two men stood in the doorway, looking him up and down.

Jean Pierroux, an agent of the Vigilante Service in mainland France.

After receiving the report from the police station, they came here early this morning, ready to take over the escort of the pilot in front of them. The absent-minded police let him slip out of his nose before, but he didn't expect that he would actually participate in a robbery in the city, and then clumsily be caught by the police, which really didn't take any effort.

"Shall we go? Mr. Rezenov. ”

Hearing this Russian with a strong accent, Long Yun already knew their approximate identities through the snooping of his consciousness. Well, I've just spent a night at the police station, and now I'm going to be in the hands of a French agent? But it was better to think that it was better than staying in this little cage where there was nothing to do, and he swaggered out of the detention cell, not forgetting to look back and smile at the habitual man who had just woken up and looked puzzled.

The black sedan drove smoothly on the road, being pointed at gunpoint by the agents next to him, and it was quite uncomfortable in the cramped back seat; But Long Yun could only endure it, and then find a way to wait for an opportunity to escape.

But he didn't know where these two men were going to take him?

While driving, the phone in the car rang, and the agent driving the car pulled his phone out of his pocket. After saying a few words, he hung up and turned the car around.

"What's wrong, Pieru?" Pocker was a little strange sitting next to him.

"Let's not leave, stay here." Pieru waved his hand, his words filled with irritation. "The Americans also knew we had found him; The above means that it is the person who handed him over to the CIA. ”

……

A few hours ago, in the city of Fontainebleau, fifty kilometers south of Paris.

In a nondescript apartment building in the city, the atmosphere in the suite on the third floor is quite strange at this time.

In the small reception room, there were already six or seven people sitting or standing at this time. On the couch next to the window, a man in a neat shirt and straight trousers is holding a cigarette roll, spitting faint smoke rings in the air.

Lindberg, deputy head of operations at the Metropolitan Vigilance Agency, was not in a good mood at this time. He really didn't expect that these guys from the CIA would come to the door so soon, and eighty percent of them were their eyeliner in the bureau. At a time when the war was so tight, the Americans were thinking only about their own affairs, and had no intention of helping France through the difficulties.

These Americans, do they have a little bit of an ally in their actions?

Coughing lightly twice, Lindberg's tone was still low. "Gentlemen, we don't have any definite news of that person yet."

"Really, Your Excellency?"

Unlike the rest of the room, sitting on the sofa across from her was a rather iconic young woman, her blouse bulging with her plump breasts and her piercing eyes behind gold-rimmed glasses. A little dissatisfied with the Frenchman's answer, she shook her head contemptuously.

"Mr. Lindberg, we don't have to beat around the bush anymore." At this time, the corner of the man's eyes twitched slightly, he did not expect that the lady in front of him would know his real name, "- The professor and his research subjects are now under the protection of your country's local security bureau, and we are deeply grateful for that. But with all due respect, now that the Russians are so close to us, Professor Ringer's research is of little practical use to your country. ”

How much does this woman, and the CIA behind her, already know about this matter?

Lindberg had no idea and felt pressured at the same time. At such a critical moment, the tanks of the Russians are already approaching the outskirts of Paris, and there are KGB men everywhere. He was also a little skeptical that the Home Guard, the last bulwark of France's national security, was worth spending precious manpower and material resources on that German.

To be honest, he's not sure about it right now. But as the head of the Operations Division, now he is unable to receive instructions from Paris, and he is already in a dilemma.

At this time, the person behind answered the phone that rang suddenly, and handed the phone to Lindberg, who looked surprised.

"Hello? ――Yes. Is that so? …… Okay, okay. ”

After hanging up the phone, frowning as if embarrassed, Lindberg nodded and gestured to the woman opposite.

"Okay. Now that your people have found his location, I have nothing to say. ”

"That's good, and I thank you on behalf of the CIA's Director of Operations." After saying such a polite remark, the woman saw Lindberg get up and prepare to leave, and then picked up another sentence. "In addition, we are also interested in the Russian pilot who parachuted in the central part of your country the day before yesterday."

"Pilot?" Linderberg had just stood up when he raised his eyebrows in a little confusion. Where did the Russian pilots come from? These Americans have reached the point where they have to care about everything? "What pilot?"

"Oh, it's the guy nicknamed 'The Butcher of the Fighters.'" Seeing that Lindberg clearly had no reaction, the woman guessed that he did not know the cause and effect of this incident, so she changed her account. "His name is Viktor Rezenov. Is this person in your hands now? ”

Looking back, Lindberg doesn't remember dealing with such a person. Viktor Rezenov, who is he?

At this time, among the entourage who was following him, someone whispered in his ear. "It was the Russian ace that we had encountered with the Germans the day before yesterday. Now our people are looking for him everywhere, but there is no news yet. ”

Oh? Lindberg seemed to remember. The famous Russian air killer who almost intercepted Ringer's landline?

But he still wondered why these Americans would be interested in such a Russian pilot. The big war is in full swing, and there will be people parachuting in the war zone every day, is there anything special about this person? Now that there were so many things to do, he no longer had the heart to care about any Russian affairs.

"We don't have any news yet. If there is any progress, I will try my best to contact you. ”